


A Picture's Worth a Thousand Torments

by mother_finch



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Gen, mother-finch fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 04:44:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3637170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mother_finch/pseuds/mother_finch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PROMPT: Root and Shaw prompt: Reese takes a picture of root and shaw smiling at each other without them noticing, and then uses it to tease shaw. (Root loves the picture and Shaw secretly does too)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Picture's Worth a Thousand Torments

Shaw walks into their rundown headquarters and looks around. The lights are dull, but bathe the open space in yellow light. The tile floors, immobile track car, wooden desk, and a familiar form sitting on the metal bench. Shaw watches from across the way as the brunette woman grabs a white-paper wrapped sandwich, and pulls it open.

"Get me anything?" Shaw asks, walking out from the shadows with a small smirk on her face. Root’s eyes lighten at her voice, and she smiles. Reaching to the paper bag at her side, she holds up the holy grail of sandwiches. Shaw’s smirk turns into a large smile. Coming over, she sits at Root’s side and hungrily rips at the paper. Root watches as Shaw takes a large bite, and closes her eyes with savoring bliss.

"Yurdbist," Shaw mumbles through a full mouth, and Root laughs, flipping her silky hair back over her shoulder.

"You mean that?" She asks. Shaw swallows and looks at Root; a large smile forms on her face. Root matches her smile, eyes glowing.

From the entrance, John walks forward, looking down at his cell phone. He gives a small laugh with a smile. “Great shot.” He comments, looking up at the two of them. Root gives him a slightly confused look, and Shaw drops her doting smile to watch John.

* * *

 

"What  _shot_?” She asks edgily. His smirk deepens as he turns the phone’s screen their way. Instantly, Shaw’s face drains of all color and her eyes widen. Root’s mouth unhinges slightly, face filled with delight.

The photo is of them, and Shaw realizes how the moment looked. Root, wavy brown hair catching the soft light, eyes entranced and smile warm. She sits straight forward, but her body is angled towards Shaw, with lunch sitting in her lap. That didn’t bother Shaw in the slightest, she rather enjoyed the stunning angle; what did worry her however, was her own body language. Not at all like her usual, stone physique, she is rather open. She sits with a comfortable slouch, whole body facing Root, with her jacket laying haphazardly on the bench.  _When did I even take that off?_  She thinks, rubbing a hand up her bare arm for confirmation. One arm is draped along the back of the bench, and her hair is a slightly messy ponytail. Her eyes reflect the light of the terminal, as if she’s seeing stars. Her smile is wider than she ever remembers having, a toothy grin with-  _is that affection?_  She asks herself, mortified. She sits in silence, absorbing every detail, when suddenly it is gone from her sight, John taking another look.

"You look  _real_ good, Shaw. Real  _happy_ ,” he remarks, smiling as he looks up at her over the phone. Her eyes are daggers, mere inches from piercing his skull. Root’s smile only widens.

"Can you send me that?" She asks.

"Sur-"

” _No._ " Shaw responds hastily, standing. Then, to John, she adds, "Delete that.  _Now_.”

His smile quirks to the side, his signature look of amusement evident on his charming voice, as he quickly taps on his phone. “Maybe later.” He replies casually. She charges.

” _Reese!_ " She bellows, grabbing for the phone. He holds it high over her head, watching as a loading bar slinks across the screen. She jumps for it, misses, then kicks John in the shin. Instinctively, he bends over, and Shaw tears the cell from his hand. She looks at the screen, but the photo isn’t there. Instead, it is replaced with a single phrase: Message Sent.

Looking back to John, murder in her eyes, she watches him regain his posture. Seeing the enraged look on her face, he forgets all pain. A devilish grin crosses her face.

"Who’d. You. Send. This. To." Her voice is even, deadly, and her eyes are stern. One wrong move and John could be on the ground, barrel to his head. However, this scenario phases him not, and he shrugs.

"Just our closest friends." He replies; she freezes. Suddenly, her phone vibrates in her pant pocket. Root’s dings. Not taking her eyes from John, she pulls the phone from her pocket, unlocks it, and glances at the message. The picture. At the top, it reads: Sent to You, Root, and Two Others.

With a disgusted sneer, she spits, “You son of a bi-“

"Good afternoon Mr. Reese. Miss. Shaw- Groves." Harold greets, walking in with his asymmetrical gate. Placing his briefcase down, he continues. "I apologize for my late appearance, I had a class to teach. I got your message," he says to John, looking at him. Then, to Shaw and Root, he adds, "It’s very nice."

"Oh, whatever," Shaw fumes, throwing her hands up. "I’m taking Bear for a walk." She grabs his leash and hooks him, then heads to the staircase. Just then, Detective Fusco descends. He looks first to Reese, "Knew I’d find you here. We gotta go. Drug bust on 3rd Street." Then, taking in Root’s bright countenance and Shaw’s sour face, he says, "What? The love birds get into a fight?" Shaw bristles, gripping Bear’s leash tight. Fusco takes in her expression and chuckles. "Don’t worry kid," he tells her in mock seriousness. "You’ll make up, and be back in the sack before you-"

He’s interrupted by a fist colliding with his jaw, Shaw unable to contain her anger any longer. He stumbles back, tripping on the steps and falling to a sitting position. He puts a hand to his jawbone, feeling the light trickle of blood blooming from a freshly split lip. He opens and closes his mouth, trying to work the pain out of his jaw. As he pulls his hand away, Shaw is satisfied to see a purple bruise already forming.

"What the Hell was  _that_  for?” he grunts, standing.

"Poking the bear," Shaw replies heatedly, fist clenched and ready for a second blow.

"How am I s’posed to explain this to NYPD?" He asks, anger flaring in his voice. Shaw gives him a cruel smile as she bumps past.

"Tell ‘em a drug dealer hit you."

________________\ A Picture’s Worth a Thousand Torments /_________________

With wind-whipped cheeks and a pink-frosted nose, Shaw unlatches Bear and heads into the subway car. Rolling her shoulders, she brings the cold blood in her body up to speed, then sheds her chilly coat and black, knit beanie. Sitting on the nearest plastic seat, she retrieves her phone from her pocket, leaning her forearms on her legs. Slouched over the phone, she takes a quick glance around:  _alone_. Shaw unlocks the device, then goes into photos. Tiles of uniform cut photos emerge on the screen, and she taps the newest one. Instantly, the photo of her and Root consumes the screen, and a small smile crosses her face.  _It is a nice picture,_  she concludes, _but I’d never dream of giving John the satisfaction._

There is the sound of heals on metal as Root steps into the car, a silent mouse taking Shaw off guard. “What are  _you_  smiling at?” She asks Shaw, a small glow in her eyes. Shaw puts the phone screen-down on her leg and leans back in the chair.

"Nothing." Root gives her a pursed-lipped look with knitted brows; Shaw can practically hear the ‘oh please.’ Root steps forward, and Shaw stands. Root takes a step up, and Shaw takes one back, eyes dancing with each other. They go to step once more, but Shaw hits the subway car wall behind her, leaving Root to quickly close the gap between them. Shaw shoves the phone behind her back, fumbling blindly for the power button as Root draws herself dangerously close to Shaw. So close, the smell of Root’s breath is intoxicating, and her eyes fill Shaw’s entire line of sight. The eyes crinkle with the emergence of a smile, and Shaw feels a hand wrap around her back; the sensation of it all leaving Shaw slack. With nimble fingers, Root slides the phone from her grasp, then turns to look at the screen while Shaw stands in place, still overwhelmed with the previous scenario.

Root focuses on the photo, and a surprised laugh escapes her lips. “You were smiling at  _this?_ " She asks, turning to face Shaw with wide eyes. Shaw strides forward with slit eyes as she swipes the phone from Root’s grasp.

"It’s a good photo of you," Shaw retorts defensively; Root smiles.

"It’s a good photo of  _us_.” She corrects. Sameen rolls her eyes. “Are you going to keep it?” She asks, now serious.

"Why else would it be  _saved_  on my  _phone?_ " Shaw counters with slight hostility, sitting back down. Root follows, crossing her legs as she sits. Putting her arm around Shaw, she leans in next to her face. Shaw turns her head to face Root, and their noses accidentally brush.

"Just checking," She replies with a smile. Shaw, seeing the radiance of it this close, can’t help but shoot one in return. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the rapid white light of a camera flash.

” _Reese!_ ”


End file.
